Dark Fantasy Normalized-Chapter 79: System (2)

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■ Loera

Level: 56

Race: Human

Class: Swordsman

Traits: Aura of ??? (A+), Master of the Holy Sword (A)

■ Fien

Level: 53

Race: True Ancestor

Class: Mage

Traits: Aura of ??? (A+), Blessing of Purified Blood (A)

■ Pamon

Level: 65

Race: Dark Elf

Class: Mage

Traits: Aura of ??? (A+), Lord of the Forest (Grade A)

■ Rona

Level: 35

Race: Human

Class: Priest

Traits: Aura of ??? (A+), Empty Vessel Filled with Purity (Grade A)

■ Perin

Level: 50

Race: Half-Spirit

Class: None

Traits: Aura of ??? (A+), Pure Chaos (Grade A)

■ Lisir

Level: 42

Race: Human

Class: ??? (Unique)

Traits: ...

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[Browsing target information...]

...

...

...

[Target's rank is too high.]

***

[Title: Wow, what a garbage game]

Content: Now I lose HP and Mana just from checking status windows too, huh.

-: Yeah lol, from extreme late game onward, looking at fate quest bosses or named mobs starts doing that.

-: [Target's rank is too high]

-: T a r g e t r a n k

-: Dammit, now I remembered that name... I guess I have to worship it again.

-: Even just checking out 7th-Tier (Level 60) characters eats some HP/Mana, but past 8th-Tier (Level 70), it's just straight up unmanageable.

***

"Urgh...!"

I squeezed my eyes shut without thinking.

It was such an unpleasant and painful sensation—like thick liquid was flowing through my eyes straight into my brain.

At the same time, I could feel my mana and mental energy melting away inside me, like well-cooked beef brisket.

What the hell is this...?

This happened when I tried to check information about myself through the status window.

Even with my eyes closed, I could still vaguely see the status window blurring at the edges.

I quickly withdrew my focus and attention from the status window.

And just like that, the constant pressure eased off.

"Hu..."

I opened my eyes again, trying to calm myself, and let out a deep sigh.

"What kind of shitty setup is this..."

No language synchronization support, and it guzzles so many resources it practically sets you on fire.

If this were an app, I would’ve slapped it with a one-star review and demanded a refund.

O great seniors of this isekai world... were your status windows this goddamn awful too?

Realizing that the status window, which is supposed to be the starting point of every great life reversal, was just absolute garbage made me pout reflexively.

The only consolation, I guess, was that it wasn’t completely useless.

I reviewed the bits of information I had barely managed to scrape from it.

And then—I couldn’t help but let out a hollow laugh.

"...What’s up with these people's levels?"

I didn't know exactly what those level numbers meant.

But judging from my own level, it was obvious.

My companions were way beyond what I had expected.

I already knew my master and my friends were incredible.

The Master who toppled an entire noble house single-handedly.

Loera, the genius who bore the expectations of her entire clan.

Fien, the True Ancestor running an entire noble society like a giant fish farm.

Even Perin, who had the elven princesses in a perpetual panic.

But seeing that greatness quantified like this in cold hard numbers—it left me stunned.

A 6th-Tier mage like me is at Level 42, so what the hell does Level 50 even mean? Are they 7th-Tier...?

The most striking part?

I was dead last.

Even Rona, who used to be practically useless after losing all her powers, had caught up close behind me.

I vaguely recalled the 'traits' listed earlier.

I hadn't looked too closely, since trying to check them made my brain feel like it was being tenderized with a meat hammer—

But they all had something like 'Aura of ???' attached, right?

Maybe that was the secret to their insane growth?

And maybe... just maybe... I had something like that too?

I was still turning over these thoughts when—

Knock knock.

A knock came from the front door.

***

"Chuigul-juljuli, hello!"

When I opened the door, Berbandes rushed over to greet the visitor enthusiastically.

Chuigul-juljuli.

It was none other than Lord Meltas.

'Chuigul' referred to the wrinkles all over his face, and 'juljuli' referred to his long braided hair and beard.

It was a name bursting with pure emotional intuition—shockingly accurate but extremely rude.

Tap.

I lightly tapped the little sand girl's head with my knuckles and said:

"No, no! Berbandes, you can’t call him that! Now, say it properly—Lord Meltas."

"Me, Merutade-chu Lord!?"

"I'm sorry, Lord Merutade-chu. I tried to teach her proper pronunciation, but it seems all the hard words got stuck in her mouth like that. A typical case of rote learning failure."

"Hoho, no worries. Chuigul-juljuli, you say? What an adorable name. I rather like it."

"Really? Then, Sir Chuigul-juljuli, to what do I owe the honor?"

"Call me properly."

"Well then, would you care to step inside?"

"No need. This is a brief matter, so I’ll keep it short.

You know Ran, the councilor, don’t you?"

I had memorized most of the key figures to watch out for in Bondales, in order to live a wise and smooth social life here.

The name Ran was included on that list of key figures.

The City Council — the gathering of Bondales' real rulers.

Among the five houses that formed the council, Ran was the eldest daughter of the Fellso family, currently managing the house in place of her ailing father.

"You're talking about Ran of House Fellso, right? I know she's one of the most powerful figures in Bondales."

City councilor.

Even the Tower Masters — independent political entities within the city — and high nobility ruling near-imperial territories elsewhere dared not treat the councilors lightly here in Bondales.

"Apparently, that powerful lady personally wants to request a favor from you."

"From me?"

Having accepted requests from merchant lords a few times before, I was somewhat used to outside requests.

Still, this one felt exceptionally sudden.

Councilors weren’t the type to ask for favors. They were the ones who received them.

Could there really be something inside Bondales that a councilor couldn't resolve with their own power?

If I had to guess... maybe only something involving another councilor.

"This smells fishy. What could someone like her possibly need from me?"

"I feel the same way," Meltas said with a nod. "Councilors almost never put themselves in debt to our Tower. Do you know why?"

"Because they're afraid it would let the Tower gain political influence inside the city?"

Meltas looked at me in genuine surprise.

"You know it well. You really are quite mature for your age."

"Come on, you're overpraising me."

"You only say that because you don't know the other young nobles around here. You have no idea how relieved I am that you didn't say something like, 'But my honor would be at stake!'"

That made me chuckle a little without meaning to.

It’s true. Among young nobles, there were plenty who fit the stereotype Meltas described.

From his standards, maybe they seemed foolish.

But from mine, they weren't idiots — just... stubborn as hell.

People obsessed with honor and face, forcing their worldview on everyone else.

I’d seen enough of that in Vendel to last a lifetime.

"Anyway, as you said, the council fears the Tower gaining political influence, so they never give us openings. They have no need. For people of their level, hiring magicians from outside would be child's play."

"Yet they've come asking the Tower for help."

"And not just that — they specifically requested you."

"...Is it because of my back-alley friends again?"

"If you get into trouble with those back-alley friends, guess who you'd have to go to for help? A city councilor."

"True. Then why...?"

"I asked ahead, for the same reason. Nothing's more frustrating than seeing a bright young mage get dragged into a political mess."

"Sharp as always. So, what did they say?"

"They said it was based on advice."

"Advice?"

Meltas paused a beat, then continued.

"From what I've found, it seems Ran has recently become deeply infatuated with someone.

A suspicious figure known as the 'Saint.'"

"The Saint?"

"Yes. Word is, he's been treating the sick for free in the Bondales slums."

"Sounds like a good person?"

"In a better world, maybe. But Lisir — beware those who offer kindness without reason."

"It really is a sad world, isn't it. Still, I mostly agree. People who say they don't care about money are usually the ones most obsessed with it. So, the Saint told Ran to seek my help?"

"What do you think?"

"If they like me, maybe they're not all bad?"

"Exactly! If they like Chuinni, they must be good!"

Berbandes, who had been admiring Meltas’ beard from below, chirped in happily.

Meltas smiled at her with the indulgence of a grandfather looking at a grandchild.

"Besides," I added, "from what I know, Ran's reputation isn't bad. One of the more 'hopeful' councilors, I'd say."

"Among councilors, she counts as relatively clean. Though that does make her weaker."

"All the more reason. I'll hear her out. It's not often you get a chance to earn points with a city councilor."

Honestly, the Tower's influence within Bondales was nothing special.

Saying "I'm a Tower mage" would probably get you a polite nod half the time.

But saying "I'm a friend of a city councilor"?

You’d get bowed to 95% of the time.

Meltas hadn’t brought me this suspicious offer for no reason.

It was a huge opportunity.

A chance to cement my place within both Bondales and noble society.

And so, I accepted Meltas’ proposal to meet with Ran.

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■ Lisir

Level: 42

Race: Human

Class: ??? (Unique)

Traits: ??? (Unique), ??? (Unique), Breathing Iron (S-), Aura of Pure Chaos (A-), Mirage of the Celestial Sphere (B+)...

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The place Lisir headed to meet Ran Fellso was a grand estate located in District 2 — the richest residential area in Bondales.

The reception room alone was larger than most mansions.

"Lady Ran, Honorary Mage Lisir has arrived."

The moment Lisir entered, escorted by the butler, the attention of the room locked onto him.

The emotions behind those gazes were complicated.

Even those smiling with curiosity weren’t exactly friendly.

Lisir quickly understood why.

I'm the only rookie here.

***

Ran had summoned powerful figures to solve a pressing problem.

All of them were big names worthy of a personal invitation from a councilor.

"I am Talrod of the Red Tower," said a sharp-eyed [N O V E L I G H T] man.

"So we finally meet the Red Spear," replied a beastkin woman with red furred ears and tail.

"I am Shakan of the Skystride Tribe."

"An heir of the Great Warriors — an honor to meet you."

"And you?"

"Malrad, from Kardum."

"A demon hunter from Kardum, huh. Heard of you."

Finally, a hooded man introduced himself with a cool nod.

Each and every name carried heavy weight across the continent.

Except, of course, for the newbie who had introduced himself first — Lisir.

Honorary Mage of the Grey Tower?

Never heard of him.

Maybe they got stuck with some political baggage?

Shouldn't they have invited someone like Grey Staff Meltas or Falling Star Marina instead?

Suspicious glances turned toward Ran, who cleared her throat.

"Thank you all for coming."

"You called us here... because of that, didn't you?"

Malrad gestured toward the center of the room —

at a black crystal orb placed on the table.

"Yes. Within this orb is sealed a demon. It holds information our house needs. But no matter how we threatened or pleaded, it won't speak."

"And so you called us to pry it open," Malrad said grimly.

Demon.

The word alone made the air in the room heavier.

"Rather than explaining a hundred times, perhaps you should see for yourselves," Ran said, motioning toward the orb.

"Hmm."

Shakan leaned lazily against her chair, staring at the black orb.

Then stood and approached it, placing her hand atop it.

"Hey."

No response.

Talrod of the Red Tower stepped forward next.

"Demon, I ask your name."

There is no name worth revealing to worthless creatures like you.

Watching from a distance, Malrad crossed his arms and sighed.

The twisted, palpable energy leaking from the orb even from afar —

this was no low-grade demon.

Such beings didn’t see humans as curiosities.

They saw them as trash.

And getting information from one?

Uncorrupted, accurate information?

He could already tell—

this was not going to be easy.

Shakan and Talrod wrestled verbally with the orb for a while before retreating with grim faces.

Just as they were about to start discussing strategies—

"Chuinni! Chuinni! I'll go talk to the Blacky too!"

A tiny girl burst out of nowhere, grabbed the black orb—

"Blacky! If our Chuinni asks you something, you have to answer! Okay!?"

"...Gladly."

***

■ Berbandes

Level: ??? (78)

Race: Spirit

Class: None

Traits: Aura of ??? (A+), Lord of the Desert (A+)